


heaven's not ready for you

by sassyweethang



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Depression, Drabble, Gen, Heavy Angst, Introspection, Missing Scene, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 13:53:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassyweethang/pseuds/sassyweethang
Summary: If you couldI know that you'd stayWe both knowThings don't work that way





	heaven's not ready for you

**Author's Note:**

> title from joanne by lady gaga
> 
> another cathartic piece
> 
> depression sucks

The thing with immortality is that it’s endless,  _ literally _ . It’s forever. And after a while the wide eyed naivety fades into something more grounded and often grief stricken. After all  _ he _ is immortal...others, not so much. 

Magnus has always been drawn to loving mortals no matter how painful it is in the long run. There’s something beautiful there, sharp and hungry for everything because _ there’s not enough time _ . 

Immortals have all the time in the world, curiosity is slow, measured out over a life that trudges on and on. Mortals have to fit everything in so damn quickly and everything is so new to them. 

Maybe Magnus is reliving his youth through his mortal loves. That newness and wonder, it’s faded over the centuries even as the world evolves again and again, faster and faster with every decade. There’s something tired about it, how history repeats more often than not. 

Mortals experience everything brand new and it’s intoxicating. Sweeping him up in the excitement like someone dragged along to a park they’ve been to before but their friend hasn’t been to yet. 

Mortality is his drug in a way, love and mortality. It goes hand in hand and draws him back, time and time again. Even if the anguish of burying a lover quite literally rips him open every time. Heartbreak is always new, that never gets old. He and the almighty are going to have words about that when he passes from this world to the next. 

Losing a lover is painful, losing a friend...a fellow immortal… that is agonising. His friend’s are immortal, constant and endless. They’re not supposed to cease. There’s not supposed to be the finality that mortal’s are assured of. 

They’re supposed to  _ always _ be there. 

But immortal doesn’t mean unkillable for them. Another thing he will have stern words over when he faces what comes  _ after _ .  

Magnus buries Ragnor on a Sunday in a Scottish cemetary where the graves are being swallowed whole by the moss. The old stone wall is crumbling, slats of local stone cracked against the frozen ground. Roots have changed the landscape, making hills where there weren’t any before. Nobody lives here anymore, the local trade dried up long ago but Ragnor loved this town even when it died centuries ago. It was home for him, maybe even where he was born. 

They are alone now, Cat returning to New York with Raphael. The others leaving to grieve their own way, maybe in a local pub with good whiskey in hand and cheeks wet with tears as they tell their stories of Ragnor’s adventures. 

Magnus doesn’t cry. He can’t. 

He wants too in some distant part of him that gets further and further away, he wants to move. Maybe join them in a pub or go to Raphael and Cat and be held in their shared pain.

But he’s as frozen as the ground that now holds his oldest and dearest friend. 

He wishes he could say it aches but it doesn’t. He doesn’t feel anything, not the cold nipping at him, nor the hunger gurgling in his gut or the pressure in his bladder begging for release or the exhaustion slipping into his limbs. 

His body is there but he isn’t. 

Magnus isn’t sure how long he’s stood there. The sun left him a while ago, not that he really noticed it. All he sees is the fresh dirt over the small mound left by Ragnor’s grave.

He doesn’t notice anything but the empty hollow feeling in his chest. It’s like someone’s taken his soul out, replaced it with nothing. Literally  _ nothing _ . Just a cavern of dark, echoing, unfeeling  **_nothing_ ** . 

He knows he should be worried about. The way time slips away easily like a silk scarf on the wind. All the while he stands, like a statue. Something to be eroded over time, unnoticed and uncaringly and cold. 

The part that cares, that worries, is like a kite floating in the storm. Darkness and the deep earthly rumble blocking it out more and more. Leaving nothing but the void growing within and around him, a black hole that sucks everything down and erases it as if it wasn’t there to start with. He could so easily slip into it, fall into the eternity of it all. Nothingness and darkness to dull his soul. Numbing him as the world disappears around him. 

No joy, no pain, just  _ nothing _ . 

He doesn’t even want or need. He’s just tired. Tired right down to his soul. 

So tired. 

So unfeeling. 

So..  **_empty_ ** .

Heartache isn’t supposed to be so empty. Where’s the pain? The anger? 

There’s just...nothing. 

No tears, no denial, nothing. 

It eats away at him a little more with every passing second...minute? Hour? He doesn’t know… He doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care. 

About anything. 

His side buzzes. His phone, he thinks numbly. Magnus blinks, his eyes dry and gritty. With a fumbling slow hand, like wading through deep water, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. 

The brightness of the screen blinds him in the gathering darkness of the night that’s descended on him. 

_ Hope you’re okay, see you when you get home - A x _

Magnus stares at the words for a long time. His screen going dark as he stares. Magnus’ face doesn’t morph into a smile, there’s no welcoming warmth in his chest that usually follows a message from Alec. Again there’s nothing. 

He slides his phone back into his pocket. 

And pulls his magic too him. Making a portal to the warmth of the loft that will fail to chase the numbness within away. 

He’ll fall into bed, put on a smile for Alec and when Alec leaves for the institute tomorrow, he’ll stare at the ceiling above their bed until Alec’s due to return. He’ll pretend until the warmth returns, until he cares again. 

It always does…

He’s waiting for the day it doesn’t, Magnus wonders what then? When faking it till you make it just doesn’t cover it anymore. 

He shakes his head, dismissing the thought. 

Magnus steps through the portal.  

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://jynnerrso.tumblr.com) & [Twitter](https://twitter.com/alineppenhallow)  
> 


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